


Medical Breakthrough

by crazyregz



Category: Naruto
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-The Last: Naruto the Movie, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, but before boruto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyregz/pseuds/crazyregz
Summary: At 17, Sakura and the Rookie 9 find themselves responsible for the rebuilding of a nation. Wrought with grief, Sakura throws herself into her work, and seems to successfully keep her demons at bay. After three years, her defenses are wearing thin, and she must finally cope with the reality of her trauma.Sakura’s post-war life is a reprieve. She sways in a shallow limbo, disheartened by trauma she can’t escape. She’s only ever relied on herself, so why is this any different?Healing from grief, education about coping mechanisms, and a healthy dose of smut.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 19
Kudos: 30





	1. Breakpoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> The original version of this was posted on FF 3 years ago, and I figured I'd pull this one out of the closet and dust it off a bit. I'm still new at this, so please let me know how I'm doing!

The Post-War Rapid Expansion Period is what historians were calling it, starting the day Kaguya Otsutsuki was vanquished.

Before the remnants of a once sprawling city broke through the trees, Sakura could hear cheering. Nestled like a pimple in the crevice of one's nose, rickshaw shacks and campfires of the village marred the otherwise seamless expanse of trees. Civilians and young genin burst forward to accept the survivors of war. Though the damages from Pein were atrocious, it seemed a no better time to rebuild from the ground up. Fireside stories told of the creation of the great Village Hidden in the Leaves, and the parallels, the squalor were uncanny to the most minute details.

At a time like this, community was all the Leaf had. Leadership turned over, and our new heroes of war found themselves too bound by responsibility to stumble. Though she had entered the fray of battle with her heart still, it appeared even Naruto was at his breaking-point by the third funeral. She suddenly understood why, as a young girl, nothing more than a civilians child out past her bedtime, she could always find the jonin meandering in groups outside bars and restaurants once the sun fell below the horizon - community is the only tool to escape the grief wrought by the life of a ninja.

Before she could fight, she could think. Yet now, at a time when she was needed most, her thoughts flowed like sewage through her brain, unfocused and uncaring. Mustering the last two brain cells she had left, Sakura devised a simple, repeatable daily routine. Each day was strategically planned to hide from the depths of her psyche with administrative work or surrounded by conversation. She worked herself to the bone, so overrun with exhaustion that she could even hide from herself when alone, falling into a dreamless unconsciousness that some may have the luxury of calling sleep.

This was not the adulthood Sakura was expecting. Her former, lazy-ass sensei sits in the Hokage's chair. Lady Tsunade is doing fuck-all as she relaxes away in retirement, acting as a 'consultant' for the new hospital and medic programs. And Sakura, confused and determined, barely 17 like the rest of the Rookie 9, but suddenly saddled with the task of building a community from the ground up.

Sakura wasn't sure if she relished or despised the stress of her post-war life. Nothing seemed certain, despite the long standing issue of Sasuke Uchiha being resolved. She channeled her heartbreak into her personal project - The Children's Hospital. Sakura wasn't blind to the long-standing trauma of her life as a ninja, and how, inadvertently, the trauma of Sasuke almost resulted in the demise of the village. It was easy to throw herself into promising the program's success. It was easy to set goals, treat adorable children, and to keep a training regime on the side.

It wasn't easy when she stagnated.

It was no longer enough to train with Ino or Naruto. Previously backbreaking volunteer shifts in the ER passed like molasses, and Sakura's once pleasantly numb consciousness was again flooded with waste. Sakura was proud of her accomplishments. Proud of the smiling faces that once only knew sorrow, of the positive effect that extended to the nurses, hell, she was proud anyone had bothered to listen to her. Yet still, she awoke each morning unsatisfied, and ended each evening emptier than the last.

Soon, even her most trusted resources for distraction found their own centers - both Naruto and Ino had taken on serious leadership roles, but also… love. At 13, Sakura eliminated her femininity to survive. She fought daily to erase the weak, crying child of her past and build herself into a woman who can make mountains crumble. Going into her 20's, she had reconstructed some relatively toxic thought patterns thanks to the help of Ino and Lady Tsunade, but at the end of the day, any romantic relationship was wasted if it wasn't Sasuke. There was no more fawning over the paths his footsteps walked, and her heart had been broken too many times to count. Yet, she remains patient. Just as she waits for him, Sakura knows Sasuke is waiting for her.

The reflection staring back at her is not who she wants Sasuke to wait for. Glassy eyes rimmed with smudged black liner begin to water. They blink, flitting up to trace the rose gold halo of frizz that glows under the warm bathroom light. The Sakura staring back at her is a hot mess. Color drains from her fingertips as she grips the sink tighter, it's pipes squealing as they strain under her strength.

This is not the adulthood Sakura dreamed of.

She bites her lip and dabs her eyes with towels from a rusting dispenser. She can hear her inner's taunting jibes over the sound of the celebrating crowd that seeps under the greasy door leading to the bar.

"Get back out there Forehead! This day is not about you so GET. IT. TO. GETHER!"

If Naruto notices the fresh scars across her knuckles as she gives the new couple her best wishes and good night, or the added charge of 'Damaged Property-Bathroom Mirror' to his bill, he doesn't say anything.

The only thing rapidly expanding in Sakura's life at the moment is her blood alcohol level and temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A first look at Sakura's post-war life. Unmentioned, but Sasuke is off doing his 'atoning for his sins' bs, and will be for a hot minute. Feel free to read the original version called Medical Relief on FF if you want some quick sexi times ;^) I'll be adding more relevant tags as the story goes, so check in often!!


	2. Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I meant to post this earlier today, but accidentally passed out following afternoon margaritas. Please enjoy this next installment of Sakura avoiding her problems.

The streets of the village were quiet after the roaring festivities of the day. Sakura’s usually silent footsteps echoed like temple bells on the newly laid cobblestone. Though the screams of cicadas broke with the day, the kinoichi’s thoughts grew in their place. One hand fisting a bottle and the other offering swift uppercuts and jabs to an invisible enemy, her inner noted that the police should have come for her by now. 

She continued to stumble deeper into the village, her flailing arms relaxing under the warm light of neon signs. Seafoam lazily traced her shadow as it poked from the trees’. It danced freely over the cobblestone, wobbling in cadence with Sakura’s unhurried steps, rotating in a beautiful symmetry with the entrance of each new, colorful light source.

The young woman’s features pulled into a scowl. How can an image of herself be so graceful, and yet she could do nothing more than struggle? As she headed towards a dimly lit park and the even dimmer staircase leading up on its far end, Sakura took stance before honing in on her extended silhouette. With ease that should be hard for someone as drunk as she, the half-full sake bottle the woman had been nursing shattered like windchimes right where that shitty mimic’s too-wide forehead should be.

“You have got to be kidding me. Have you actually lost it? That was something you paid for!”

Sakura scoffed, kicking up dust with the silver heels Ino had been kind enough to loan her. She found herself mumbling, “Shut up!” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. Her inner had a point though. What was happening to her?

She ground her teeth before uppercutting the air again.

“That stupid Uchiha! It’s one of the most important days in the world for one of the most important people to you, and you only sent a NOTE to ME? WHAT THE HELL!”

As she continued her rant, raising in volume from mumble to full blown screech, she continued forward to stairs that she knew led to a scenic overlook above. She imagined she could take a long jump from the railing into the river below, just to see where the current would take her. Considering that a reasonable course of action, Sakura bulldozed forward, ignoring her inebriated state. 

Her drunken feet caught on contact with the top of the stairs, and she soon found her face full of dirt. Digging her fingers into the concrete and biting back tears of humiliation, the kinoichi rolled over and assessed the damage. Nothing was broken or bleeding, yet as she stood up and began viciously brushing herself off, she stood with a limp. 

Staring down at her feet, she saw the heel of her right shoe flayed outward, having sacrificed itself for her safety. She calmly leaned down to unbuckle its thin strap. Grasping her fallen hero, she stared into the darkness before her. Her shoulders fell as she held the shoe by its arch before her eyes. She squeezed them shut as a gut wrenching “FUCK” ripped from her throat, drowned out by the crater of a grave Ino’s shoe received upon impact with the base of the stairs. 

Chest heaving, Sakura breathed in hard through her nose, pulling her posture up with her head into something slightly more respectable. She spun around, ready to unbuckle her other shoe and dive head first into the still waters of the river, before catching eyes with her unexpected audience.

She deflated, “Did you see all of that?”

He blinked slowly, before moving his hand to his face in a hesitant motion.

“...I won’t say anything if you won’t say anything.”

Sakura found herself smiling, “Thanks, Shikamaru.”

She took in the scene before her, suddenly understanding his statement as cancer filtered her way past her nose and burnt into her eyes. Coughing as discreetly as she could, the young woman strode forward, still set on removing her other shoe, now, perhaps asking Shikamaru to return it for her, and then acquainting herself with the local species of fish in the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

After finding a seat beside the village genius, she began to fiddle with the thin strap of her shoe. Avoiding Shikamaru’s eyes, she spoke, despite her better intuition not to.

“So...I thought you quit smoking.”

“I thought you were ‘doing great’.”

Sakura knew exactly what to expect throwing jabs at someone as quick witted as Shikamaru, yet hearing those words out loud caused her lower lip to tremble. She took a breath, stilling her weary soul. This was a conversation she owed herself.

“You and Temari looked amazing together today. I didn’t realize you clean up so nicely,” Sakura forced a giggle, matching Shikamaru’s gaze at the depth above.

“Is that what this is about?”

“ALL he said was congratulations, Shikamaru.”

“...is that what this is about?”, his voice giving way to genuine surprise.

Sakura took another deep breath, struggling as the explosions of her thoughts began to blind her vision. Smoke stung her eyes, snapping her out of a helpless ravine, accompanied by a large hand on her shoulder.

“Look.” Shikamaru sighed heavily, adjusting his posture to be less dismissive. He still avoided her eyes, idly scratching at the back of his head.

“Look. Everyone has their own weird love thing going on recently. We’re getting older. It’s part of growing up,” he paused to take a deep inhale from his cigarette.

“You know Sasuke is coming back for you, right?”

His question hung heavy, clogging her mind as smoke clogged her lungs. She coughed again. 

“How can you smoke those things?” She questions. “This feels awful!”

Shikamaru shrugged his shoulders, “I agree. Somehow, they’re less worse when you actually smoke them, though.”

Eager to avoid his previous line of questioning, Sakura aimed to flow with this diversion. Thinking quickly, words stumbled from her still tipsy lips before she could catch them.

“Let me try one.”

The lazy genius whipped his head around in a very uncharacteristic fashion, cigarette almost dropping with his jaw. 

“What?”

Sakura lagged.

“...please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a cheap cliffhanger fan. This is like a dime harlequin novel tho so I guess it’s fair game. I had to break the original draft into parts after it got WAY too long, so my original outline is now trash. Also because I don't know if I'm patient enough to write like 7 chapters before getting to butt-touching goodness. Please let me know what you think so we can take this story somewhere fun!
> 
> I’ve been surprisingly opportunistic lately, and am ahead of schedule for this story. I’d really like to write some modern AU sexi one-shots, so leave some specific requests in the comments! I may be setting up a tumblr or something soon, be on the look out for this cool cat B)
> 
> Love always, and stay safe y’all.


	3. Breakaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again y’all sweet things. I was trying to keep a bi-weekly schedule on Mon/Thurs, but got hit with the sads over the weekend so here’s all I got. I might overcompensate and post some extras this upcoming Monday to make up for it ;)

Sakura’s plan at diversion was a success. 

After a polite exchange and an unwelcome puff, Sakura realizes her plan is perhaps not a success, deciding she was fully intent on leaving the intrusion to burn to its filter. Thus, she was left with no more distraction. What was she supposed to say? 

Shikamaru sighs again. 

“Women are always so complicated. You wanna know why I’m up here smoking?”  
Sakura piques at the unexpected information, happy to turn attention away from herself, despite his aggravating statement.

“Temari kicked me out.”

Her shoulders fall, before she gasps like a schoolgirl.

“Wait, Shikamaru, does that mean that-”

“Asuma-sensei made Choji and me a promise the day we made chunin.”

“What?”

“He told us, the day we entered manhood he would celebrate with us with a tradition of men.”

“Wait…”

“Temari kicked me out because I told her I had to go smoke a cigarette in Asuma’s honor because we fucked.”

Silence hung heavy like the early morning fog that engulfed them. 

Sakura gripped her sides, then burst into a fit of maniacal laughter.

Shikamaru’s tense muscles relax into the bench as he breathes a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging on his lips, “That could have gone one of two ways, you know. I’m glad you find humor in my shortcomings.”

Sakura wipes a tear from her eye. Hand falling back to the bench below, she nearly burns herself on the still smoldering cigarette, swiping it up by the filter. “No, men are complicated.” She holds the butt closer to his face. “Why would Asuma bother with this...this cancer day after day?”

Shikamaru slowly pushes her arm back towards her own face. Sighing for what seems the millionth time tonight, Shikamaru turns to lazily look Sakura in the eyes.

“Listen. I’m about to tell you three things. All of them are separate but slightly related. We’ll talk about Asuma in a moment, alright?”

It seems Sakura’s distraction is a success! She nods enthusiastically, eager to further derail the conversation.

“Tobacco is a drug, just like what you prescribe to patients. Cigarettes have additional chemicals that make them worse for you, but you won’t get addicted from smoking just one.” 

He shrugs, looking back up at the sky, “Maybe if you smoke a whole pack. They definitely shorten your life. But you know what else does?” Shikamaru side-eyes his companion, irritation written all over her face.

“Stress?”

“It’s stress, Sakura. Do you trust me?”

She eyes him incredulously. 

“Just try it. Not with the intention to do it again, but to catalogue the experience, and learn from it.”

Sakura drops her gaze to the near dying butt of her cigarette. With a quick glance in her teacher’s direction, she mimics his posture and breaths life through the tiny ember. It lit with the sting in her throat, and she struggled not to gag as the smoke swirled in the depths of her lungs. Exhaling with a quiet weeze, the second drag was much more amenable, the smoke dancing across her numbed lips and tongue as she breaths in a much more controlled measure. 

Handing over the still smoldering cig, Sakura watches as Shikamaru snubs it out and slips it into his pocket with his own butt. She picks at the edge of her dress and fingernails, unsure of what to say next.

Shikamaru speaks first. “You’ll start to feel the effects almost immediately. I’m sure you can understand how these can become addictive. I can’t speak on behalf of Asuma, but I can tell you he wasn’t some druggie. He was self-medicating, just like Tsunade with her drinking and gambling.”

Sakura listens closely, allowing her eyes to slide shut as she seeks to capture every word. It felt as though she was melting into the bench below them. Mixed with the alcohol, her consciousness floated, yet she was more alert than she had been all evening. Loling her head in the direction of the young shinobi, Sakura regards him with droopy eyes.

She opens her lips to speak but croaks, cheeks flushing as she turns her head to clear her throat. Taking a deep breath, she turns to him and tries again.

“I get it.”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah it’s…” Her eyes turn glassy as they shift to the endless depths above them.

“It’s like returning home from a mission in the winter, and that feeling after you finally get to take off all your heavy gear and just..” she sighs longingly and slouches further into the bench.

“I have one more thing to say, and it’s the most important, so listen up.”

Sakura hums in acknowledgement, content to listen with her eyes closed. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you try to avoid my question.” Sakura tenses.

“But I can tell you aren’t comfortable talking about that, and that’s okay,” Shikamaru continues. He avoids looking her way, posture rigid as he treads through uncharted territory.

“I care about you, Sakura. We all do. Yet, I can’t begin to fathom how you can be so blind to your own achievements. The Sakura of our school days was someone I associated with Sasuke’s fan club. The Sakura that sits beside me is one of the 2nd generation Legendary Sannin.”

The soft click of a lighter fills the silence, smoke once again playing amongst the fog. Shikamaru took in the broken form beside him, cancer falling heavy from his lips like pity.

“Sometimes though… sometimes our emotions don’t line up with our logic. We lived through a war, Sakura. Experienced even worse during our time as child soldiers. The life of a ninja has never been pretty, and those emotions can be hard for the human brain to handle, especially for someone as caring as yourself.”

He gives her a playful poke in the ribs, “You’re starting to look like how Ino thought the ‘ideal woman’ should look when we were kids. Whatever it is that you’re running from, and how you’re running from it? It’s not working. I’ve been watching you fade, Sakura.”

Sakura stares at him blankly, idly rubbing her sore ribs. Her thoughts were still for the first time since the wedding. They flowed like syrup behind her eyes, grasping at the threads of knowledge Shikamaru dispensed.

“Asuma may have died young, but others like Kakashi, Kurenai, and Gai all live on in his stead. They all found some way to cope that didn’t leave them rotting from the inside out.” He stood, face blurred in the dense fog. Sakura’s eyes follow his movement, staring in apparent awe at the man before her. Still glowing at his lips, the ember of his cigarette casts shadows into wrinkles on a face far too young to be that serious.

“Let me walk you home.”

-~MB~-

The soft glow of her porch light encases the couple in a comfortable silence. She struggles blindly with the lock and key, conceding as the young man opts to do it for her. She accepts the keys and steps forward to a barren void with slight hesitation.

Sakura turns to Shikamura, fishing for words like a carpenter. Though her features are panicked, the young kunoichi's posture is lax with relief. She flips her apartment keys through her fingers over and again, staring intently on her chipped pedicure.

“Shikamaru, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Sakura. I need you to do one thing for me, though.”

His posture mimics one of his youth, hand scratching the back of his head and foot tapping idly at the ground. 

“Forget about Sasuke for a while. Take it all and pack it nicely into a box, put it on a shelf in that huge brain of yours, and decide to come back to it when you’re ready. Don’t bottle that shit up, it’ll turn into a molotov cocktail.” He drags his hand down his face, looking more serious than he had all night.

“And take care of yourself, woman. You’re a doctor, so you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. Get some sleep.”

He turns with a nod and small smile, disappearing into the shadows. 

For the first time since the war, Sakura indulges in the luxury of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t smoke cigarettes, kiddos. I’m five years into an addiction that’s only gotten worse, and it started with the idea of self-medicating. Sakura’s steps next chapter will hopefully illustrate some holistic ways to getcha shit together :^)
> 
> Love always, and stay safe y’all.


End file.
